George Gordon Noel Byron

Her eye (I'm very fond of handsome eyes)
Was large and dark, suppressing half its fire
Until read more

Her eye (I'm very fond of handsome eyes)
Was large and dark, suppressing half its fire
Until she spoke, then through its soft disguise
Flash'd an expression more of pride than ire,
And love than either; and there would arise,
A something in them which was not desire,
But would have been, perhaps, but for the soul,
Which struggled through and chansten'd down the whole.

Modesty is the only sure bait when you are fishing for praise.

Modesty is the only sure bait when you are fishing for praise.

. . . Years steal
Fire from the mind, as vigor from the limb;
And life's enchanted read more

. . . Years steal
Fire from the mind, as vigor from the limb;
And life's enchanted cut but sparkles near the brim.

The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains--Beautiful!
I linger yet with read more

The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains--Beautiful!
I linger yet with Nature, for the night
Hath been to me a more familiar face
Than that of man; and in her starry shade
Of dim and solitary loveliness
I learn'd the language of another world.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.